Receiving some vibrations from the future. Excitement & Panic. Bring on ‘03.

Finally made the morning practice. It felt great to be on the mat, even at 6am, but I’m paying for it now. Time for one of those “power naps”…

Good circle last Saturday, though Joe was missed. Occasionally, we sounded pretty good.

Mark taught us the additional parts to Third Relation. This was again assigned for group homework. I didn’t like mirrors on the descending sections, but the 5’s sound great. I think my own work will focus more on Eye of the Needle… this is the only ensemble piece that I don’t know (in the lesser sense) yet.

Marks’ report on the Madrid GC course attendance made me reconsider going. The necessary is possible. But, I really don’t feel it is necessary. Plus, if I’m lucky, I just might have other engagements in late January.

click.

The end of the phone call that cancelled my cable TV. It wasn’t easy, but I’m two months from the big three-oh and I’m not where I want to be. So, no time to waste on the hypnotic CRT. Time to yank the corporate feeding tube and rejoin reality.

Been on another fiction binge. Lately I’ve had a taste for The Great American F’s. Continuing to plow through Russell’s History. I’m in the chasm between Ancient & Enlightenment philosophy, and my reading pace slackens with my enthusiasm. There’s some interesting stuff in there, but it never really captures my imagination. I’ll have to clear my schedule for six months when I get to the enlightenment.

‘Tis the season for philosophical fallacies.

In unrelated reading, the ‘Times printed a sort of book review / interview on religion:

In his new book, “Darwin’s Cathedral: Evolution, Religion and the Nature of Society” (University of Chicago Press), Dr. Wilson argues that the religious impulse evolved early in hominid history because it helped make groups of humans comparatively more cohesive, more cooperative and more fraternal, and thus able to present a formidable front against bands of less organized or unified adversaries.

How stupendously mundane. I won’t make judgments on the book based on a simplistic write-up, but the fact that this basic premise seems newsworthy is sad. I’m sure many will find it shocking. We’re far, far beyond this level of understanding, but either the book is lame, or (more likely), the book reviewer figured the general public isn’t up to digesting more detailed information. Still, the fact that it got printed at all is somewhat promising. There are places where the author would be stoned to death for looking at the book. Georgia, for instance.

It’s nice to have Pike’s National Forest for a back yard. That’s a slight exaggeration- there are some in this town that can claim that literally- but it’s a short walk up the road.

Went for a short hike starting at 11:00. After traveling a few dirt roads through town, we come to the water treatment station at the bottom of the trail. At this point, the trail is still a dirt road, blocked to traffic, that heads up a shallow canyon to our reservoirs. A rather well traveled path. We passed two or three groups on the way up. I leash Smilla whenever we pass another dog, but otherwise she leads the way.

The lower reservoir is almost gone. The upper, larger one is a good ten or twelve feet low. Frozen over. A single set of tracks bisected the oblong snow plain its entire length.

The upper reservoir represents the real trailhead to me, though it is somewhat a hike just to get there. The dirt road continues off the far end, past another access gate, on through the hills, and meets up with route 63 eventually. This time of year it’s only traversed by elk and snowmobiles.

I left the road at a familiar junction, through an aspen grove, to a narrow trail that leads up and across a ridgeline. This is one of those days Smilla couldn’t possibly go far enough fast enough. Any pause or slackening of pace is met with whining, so I broke a stick from a fallen tree and relieved her of some energy.

The rock formations in this range are old and weathered smooth. A sheer granite face, several hundred feet high, faces the ridge from the east. Past the far end of the reservoir is an outcropping of house-sized boulders, with just the right color and roundness to resemble a complex of adobe dwellings perched on the mountainside.

The trail I was on eventually leads up to a level area studded with crumbling granite pillars, about man-high and around. I refer to it as the “rock garden”, a fine place for a game of fetch-and-seek (throw stick, run & hide). But I didn’t go that far today.

As it was, I think Smilla was the happiest creature on earth for three hours. By 3:30 the sun was already behind the mountains. Longer days will be welcome.

Turn on the news, and all you hear about is retail sales and Powerball(TM).

Furuya: Do not say to yourself, “Try to be good.” Just BE good!

Today’s (Dec 20) Message from Furuya sensei is also required reading for crafties. Scroll down to the part labeled In Class Briefly. Substitute “guitar” for “sword”.

I obviously conceive GC in terms of aikido. I think this is valid. Somewhere RF said ‘at some level, all crafts are the same craft’.